Cybertron Runners
by ZootyCutie
Summary: Multiple one-shot Transformers Animated parodies of different Homestar Runner shorts, toons, and Strong Bad Emails.
1. Autobot Biz Cas Fri

I had a ton of fun writing "A Lightweight Autobot", so I decided to expand it by making a little series of Transformers Animated parodies of Homestar Runner shorts, toons, and the SBEmails.

All the characters in the series are copyrighted to Hasbro, and the original scripts are copyrighted to The Brothers Chaps. They take place during random times in the series, so they could be before, after, or during.

This first one is based off of Biz Cas Fri 1, and was requested by my friend Jess (Puppyluver/SoSoSuckYourToe). This one takes place after the series.

I hope you guys enjoy these!

* * *

It was Friday. That's the day that students and teachers of the Protihex Medical Mechanics University didn't have to wear any specific medical armor. Business Casual Friday, or Biz Cas Fri, as it was called around the school, was the day that they could wear any appropriate comfortable outfit. Ratchet (clad in a striped polo shirt), was busy typing away on important documents on his computer.

"Great! I'm almost done with these third-quarter medical analysis spreadsheets, and STILL no sign of--"

"WHAT – is UP, -- my dog?!"

It was the 'bot that Ratchet DIDN'T want to see right now. Ever since coming to Cybertron, Wreck-Gar became a student of Ratchet, wanting to learn anything that he could. Today, wearing his lucky brown polo shirt, he was ready to learn. Too bad his teacher wasn't ready to teach.

"…I am NOT your dog."

"Mr. Alfred, you crack me up." Wreck-Gar cheerfully said, without a care in the world. "Crack! Me! Up! That's why you're my D-O-G-E!"

"…You're 'doge'?! What are you talking about?" Ratchet said, trying not to turn away from his computer. "I'm Ratchet! Alfred isn't even a Cybertronian name!"

"Hahaha! Good one, Alfred." Wreck-Gar laughed, still oblivious. "I mean, good one, MY DOG. So, you goin' to Beached Themed Oil Bar tonight? It's femmes' night! Music, dancing, they've got fake palm trees!"

"Oh, yeah…I'd rather be off-line!"

"Cooool, can we go together? Pick me up at six." Wreck-Gar asked. Sarcasm must be a foreign language to him. "Ooh, and bring plenty of Cyber-credits. I'm gonna need at least five or six oil cakes."

"Will you just get out of here and let me finish my spreadsheets?!"

"You're not done yet? I finished mine weeks ago! Let me lend you a servo."

"No, no, don't touch that!"

It was too late. Wreck-Gar had already pushed his mentor out of his chair, and started typing. Or, more like pounding his clenched servos on the keyboard, and see what happens. Suddenly, the screen went blue, and a message popped up:

Flamboyant System Error  
3rd Qtr. Projection= Bad News

"Huh?" Ratchet muttered out, looking at his now-broken computer, and then clenching his servos in anger. "Oh, great! This is just GREAT!"

"Yeah! You can thank me later! I love that blue screen. It's my dog." Wreck-Gar cheerfully stated, then stood up from the chair. "Anyways, I'll let you finish up here. See you at six!"

Wreck-Gar ran out of Ratchet's office, as the upset medic slumped down in his chair.

"Oh, man! Now I gotta start over--"

"Don't be late!" Wreck-Gar exclaimed, poking his head into the office.

"Start all over an--"

"Femmes' night!"

"Start all ove--"

"Fake palm trees!"

"Start all o--"

"You're my dog."

This broke Ratchet's last straw. Finally losing it completely, he repeatedly pounded his head on the keyboard.

"Stupid! Third! Quarter! Medical! Analysis! Spreadsheets…I don't even know who you are…! Alfred…erh, where art thou…?

That's all Ratchet could say before he slumped down onto the floor, fainted into stasis.

THE END


	2. Insecticon in Mouth Disease

Here's another one!

This one was another request by Jess, who wanted a version of Bug in Mouth Disease (it's also one of my personal favorites).

Hope you guys enjoy this one! This one takes place during the series.

* * *

It was a beautiful day in Detroit. The perfect day for enjoying the sun, and to feel free to do whatever you want. Today was also the day that Professor Sumdac was revealing a new brand of automatons that were shaped like, and about the size of insects. Dubbing them "Insecticons", he was sure that they were going to be a convenient new machine from Sumdac Systems. Due to their small stature, he was able to make tons of them. Due to making tons of them, he would have NO idea if one of them managed to slip away from the remote control's frequency…

* * *

Remember how I said it was a beautiful day? Not everyone was enjoying it. No, Blitzwing was cooped up in the Decepticon headquarters, watching a Cybertronian program on the control monitor.

"…And that's why come Sky-Byte's so awesome."

"Ja, I see now."

The only thing that could have ruined the Triple Changer's television would be a double-crossing Seeker. As if luck would have it, Starscream came into the control room.

"Hey, Tater Salad."

Blitzwing's face shifted from Icy to Hothead, as he crossly made a point.

"I told jou, I made ze miztake! Don't call me by zat!"

"Oh, sorry Tater Salad." Starscream said, as he sat down on the stone slab the Decepticons used as a couch substitute. "Anyways, I just wanted you to know that all your tank cozies somehow ended up individually priced and labeled in an online auction."

"Nobody buyz ze pink von!"

As Blitzwing ran off, Starscream got himself fully comfortable, and grabbed the wireless control module, shifting the monitor's frequency to an Earth signal.

"That was too easy! Now to settle down for a 24-megacycle marathon of 'As the Kitchen Sinks'!"

"Gordon, were you making a little tent out of my jacket?"

"I am now!"

"Yeah, you make that tent, Gordon!" Starscream yelled to the monitor. "He's not the boss of you!"

* * *

Meanwhile, OTHER Cybertronians were enjoying the sun. Bumblebee was taking a power drive, his radio blasting to as loud as he could handle (which was pretty loud). Suddenly, he screeched to a halt, and clasped at his throat, coughing very loudly.

"Agh! A bug flew into me! I practically swallowed it! Bug swallow! Bug swallow!"

He slowed down, trying to compose himself.

"Okay, calm down, 'Bee. Remember what Ratchet says…"

He tried his best to slump into his best Ratchet impression, attempting to act as crotchety and grumpy as he could.

"You slaggin' protoform! Get over it! It's just a bug!" Realizing that nothing was happening, he snapped back to reality. "Oh, it's not working! The good times are over!"

He transformed back into his altmode, and sped off, hoping to find SOMEONE to help him.

* * *

"…I keep trying' ta get 'da nerve up to tell 'em his leadin' qualities stink, but who could be 'dat stupid ta say it ta Megatron?"

"Yer a brave mech, bro."

Scrapper and Mixmaster were shirking off their work, and doing their favorite pastime: drinking oil and catcalling little red cars. They were caught up in the moment, until Bumblebee suddenly screeched into their view, thus blocking any other cars. He hastily transformed, ignoring the annoyed faces that were now on the faces of the two Constructicons.

"Scrapper! Mixmaster! You gotta help me! I think I swallowed a bug! You gotta help me! The good times are over! I could go off-line!"

"Well, whaddya want us ta do, pipsqueak?" Mixmaster asked, trying to look past the yellow Autobot.

"Give me those oil cans!" Bumblebee said, grabbing the tankers from the two. "We'll drown him out!"

"Hey, we stole 'dat oil fair an' square!" Scrapper protested, as Bumblebee hastily chugged down the oil, but to no avail.

"It didn't work! It deliciously didn't work!"

He then threw the oil tankers on the ground, transformed, and drove off. Maybe someone else could help him…

* * *

"…You throw like a girl, Jack."

"Gordon, that suitcase was heavy!"

Starscream was still watching the marathon. So far, he was able to watch a good chunk uninterrupted. That is, until Blitzwing came back, this time as Icy, yet nevertheless, cross.

"Vat online auction? I can't find anything." Blitzwing asked, as Starscream slowly turned from the monitor to the Decepticon. "I an image zearch for 'ze pink von' and got nozzing. Or…nozzing pleazant, anyvayz.

"Well, keep searching. Try putting things in quotes or something. Or use 'and' and 'or'." Starscream suggested, as he turned his gaze back to the monitor. "Oh, yeah, 'and' go away."

"Oh! Boolean operatorz!" Blitzwing said, happy with the idea. "'Pink' AND 'von'! Good idea!"

Blitzwing walked off, leaving Starscream once again to enjoy his marathon in peace.

* * *

"This is just fine!"

Swindle was burning a sheet out of his ledger. (Specifically, the one involving Blitzwing and Lugnut's little…incident with him. But don't let anyone know.)

"Swindle, you can be a doctor, right?" Bumblebee ran up to the arms dealer, who quickly disposed of the ledger. "I think a bug flew inside me. Now I'm freaking out that the good times are over!"

"A doctor, huh? I think I might be one of those. Let me take a look." He searched through his personal compartment, and pulled out some business cards. "What do we have here? Bail bondsman, paranormal investigator, NORMAL investigator…Oh, here we go! 'Dr. Swindle'! Let's take a look."

Bumblebee opened his mouth as large as he could, while Swindle looked into it.

"Hmm…okay…yes, yes…interesting…"

"Is it good?" Bumblebee gurgled, as Swindle backed up.

"Bumblebee, I've got terrible, terrible news."

"Oh, no! It's about the good times?"

"I'm afraid you have no cyber-spleen." Swindle announced to a now-annoyed Bumblebee. He shuffled once again through his personal compartment, and pulled out a cooler. "But, I do happen to have a fresh one on sale right here!"

"Swindle, are you an unethical quack?

"The most quackinest!"

* * *

Meanwhile, in the Decepticon headquarters, Starscream was still watching the marathon, with a skillet on his lap, and a fork in his servo.

"StarGordon, did you make the best Energon goodie cake during the commercial break?" He asked…to himself. Since he asked himself, it was only fitting that he responded to himself. "I sure did!"

"Starscream, I think I--" Bumblebee suddenly ran into the room, only to be interrupted by Starscream.

"Ah-ah-ah! Not today, Autobot!"

Bumblebee then left…only to appear from the other side.

"Starscream, I think a bug might have--"

"Can't you see Grandma's watching her stories?"

He left again, as the show started up.

"Why aren't you breathing, Gordon?"

Once again, Bumblebee popped up, this time behind the rock slab.

"Starscream--"

He wasn't able to get any words out, as Starscream knocked him in the face with his skillet, putting him into stasis.

"And coming up next on 'As the Kitchen Sinks'," The announcer…announced. "Find out who shot Gordon."

"'Who shot Gordon'?" Starscream said in shock and excitement. "Oh, there's NO way I'm missing that one. NO WAY."

* * *

Some time later, Bumblebee woke up from behind the slab.

"That was a great skillet-stasis nap! Thanks, Starscream!" He looked from behind the slab, but Starscream wasn't there anymore. "Starscream?"

It turned out that Starscream had welded his face to the monitor screen. He REALLY didn't want to miss this.

"Can't…miss…any of…the action!"

"Starscream, you're one of the last 'bots I'd turn to, but you gotta help me! The good times are over!" Bumblebee announced. "I swallowed your computer!"

"You WHAT?!" Starscream yelled, tearing his face off of the screen.

"Oh, I meant a small bug. I swallowed a small bug."

"Aw…now my head's not welded to the monitor." Starscream dejectedly said.

"Starscream, I really need your help."

"And I really need to know who shot Gordon!"

"Oh, that's easy. I did."

"You-ka— w-wha?"

"Bumblebee…" Jack started. "…did you shoot Gordon?"

"I sure did." Bumblebee on the TV stated.

"Autobot scum!" Starscream yelled, pointing an accusing servo at the real Bumblebee. "You shot my favorite TV show!!"

Starscream then chucked the remote control at Bumblebee's face, making him hiccup. When he did, a metallic bug flew out: it was the missing Insecticon!

"Hey, look at that! A little guy." Bumblebee said, watching the tiny robot fly around. "A bug DID fly into my mouth!"

"Ugh…" Starscream grumbled. "…the good times are DEFINITALLY over."

Suddenly, Blitzwing ran in. He had…something pink draped over him, making him look almost like a ghost.

"Ze vorld eez saved!" Blitzwing (sounding very much like Random was in control). "I found ze pink vons!!"

THE END


	3. KickABall

This one is a parody of Kick-A-Ball, and was also a request from Jess.

Hope you guys enjoy this one!

* * *

Today was the day that any Decepticon would feel like a fool to miss. Well, other than Megatron's birthday. No, this was the annual Kick-A-Ball tournament. The tradition had only started a few stellar cycles ago, but it caught on very quickly. As usual, Swindle nominated himself as the referee, while Starscream and Mixmaster faced each other, waiting for Swindle to make a call.

"All right, gentlemechs! Servos up! It's one-potato, two-potato to see who gets the first pick!"

Mixmaster flexed his servos into fists, and leaned in. Starscream tried the same, but couldn't, due to his fingers being so spindly.

"Um…sorry 'bout that!" Swindle apologized, and then pulled out a Cyber-coin. "Coin toss to see who gets first pick! Call it in the air!"

"Sonic!" Mixmaster yelled, and then quickly realized his mistake. "I mean, Tails!"

The Cyber-coin landed tails-up on the ground, much to the Constructicon's pleasure.

"Ooh! Yes! Scrapper, you'll always be my little brother, but today, I gotta play 'da strategy card. I'm goin' wit Scrapper."

"Um…okay…?" Scrapper confusedly said, as he went onto Mixmaster's side.

"Lugnut, get your hulking aft over here!" Starscream yelled, as Lugnut happily obliged, must to Strika's displeasure.

"You cut me deep!" She yelled, a hint of sadness in her commanding voice.

"Let's see, let's see. Who's good on the field?" Mixmaster wondered aloud, as he scoped out the potential players. "Ooh! I'll take Scrapper! Surprised that he hasn't been snatched up yet!"

"Um, but you, just--" Starscream started, until Mixmaster cut him off, oblivious about how annoyed Scrapper looked.

"Ah, ah, ah! Too late! I called 'im! You'll just have to be quicker next time!"

"Ooooooooooooooooooooo... kay. I got Blackout!"

Blackout walked over to Starscream's side, as Strika looked out in shock.

"What ze slag?!" She exasperatedly asked, as Mixmaster thought about his next choice.

"Um, bro?" Scrapper whispered. "Maybe ya should try pickin' someone 'dat isn't me."

"Yeah, yeah, good call. I know someone 'dat's got a great throwin' servo." Mixmaster decided, and yelled out his choice. "We'll take Scrapper!"

"What a surprise." Starscream sarcastically said, then made his next choice. "All right, Strika, get over here."

"You are forgiven!" Strika happily called, walking over to the Seeker's side, and Mixmaster made his next choice, while Scrapper looked on in exasperation.

"Ooh, 'dis one's a toughie. But I'm gonna have to go wit Scrapper."

"This keeps teetering between hilarious and maybe-we-should-put-him-in-a-home." Blackarachnia snidely commented from the choosing line.

"…And what wouldn't be hilarious about that?" Cyclonus coldly responded.

"Come on, Spittor!"

"Scrapper, let's do 'dis!"

"Blitzwing!"

"I'll go wit Scrapper."

"Oil Slick, you're with us."

"Scraaaaaapper!"

"Ugh…Blackarachnia…"

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Blackarachnia asked, leaning in a little closer.

"I think he picked me." Cyclonus said, as he started to walk towards Starscream's side.

"No, I didn't." Starscream said. "I picked Blackarachnia."

"Cool." Cyclonus said, walking back to the line, without a care or second thought.

By this time, Scrapper was lying on the ground in sheer annoyance, as Mixmaster made another choice.

"Scrapper! Bullpen!" These were the only intelligible things said, as the last thing he said was completely unintelligible.

"Well, well, well. Look who's--" Cyclonus started, only to be interrupted by Starscream.

"Shut up! You play eighth base."

"Sounds important."

"Ouch, Scrapper! Picked last?!" Mixmaster asked, this time to a completely empty bench. "It's okay; you can be on our team."

The teams were set: Scrapper and Mixmaster…against everyone else. Scrapper was on the pitcher mound, and Starscream was ready to kick. Scrapper cocked his servo back, and got a shot the bowled over Starscream.

"Strike one!" Swindle called.

"Hey, no fair!" Starscream said, still from the ground. "He probably told the ball what to do! It's probably one of the femmes he has a crush on!"

"Hey! Just because the ball's red doesn't mean I'm gonna fall for it!" Scrapper yelled.

Next up was Lugnut. He nearly dodged the kickball, until it hit him in his large optic. Not being able to see, he accidentally unleashed his Punch Of Kill Everything, the kickback sending him right next to first base. Everything went well…until the ball rebounded and hit Lugnut.

"You're out!" Swindle yelled.

"I DON'T KNOW VAT KIND OF LOW-RENT, DREI-BEDROOM, ZWEI-BATHROOM, SECTION ACHT SPORT YOUR PLAYING HERE," Hothead Blitzwing yelled at a very shocked Swindle, and quickly shifted to Random. "But I'm playing femme'z lacrozze!"

He then walked off from the confused conman (wearing a pink skirt for some reason and singing to himself), as Blackarachnia stepped up to the plate.

"Well, well, well! Look who it is!" Mixmaster yelled out, sounding a little cocky. "Ya got nothin', sister! Ya couldn't kick yer way outta purging yer organic side! You're femme creator wore combat upgrades!"

"She did not!" Blackarachnia yelled, as she swiftly sent the ball going skyward. "Just because she didn't, doesn't me I DON'T!"

Mixmaster tried to follow the ball, only to end up falling down.

Next up was Oil Slick. Realizing that the ball was going a LITTLE too fast for comfort, he quickly dodged it by jumping over it.

"Strike three!" Swindle yelled. "You're out!"

"Well, looks like its back to the dugout." Oil Slick said, only for Starscream to stop him.

"Um…that might be the ORGANIC way to play kickball, but we're gonna do it the DECEPTICON way!"

"You guys are all idiots!!!!!" Oil Slick yelled, as he was shot skyward…out of a catapult.

Next up was Strika. She kicked the ball with enough force to CIRCLE CYBERTRON…and hit her in the back of her head.

"You're out!"

"Aww…"

"It all comes down to this!" Shockwave announced, as the scoreboard was adjusted. "Starscream has a chance to win this, right here, right now! It doesn't get any more exciting than this! ...I have no idea who I'm broadcasting to!"

It turns out, this was merely Shockwave broadcasting. On the radio. Mixmaster had now replaced his little brother on the pitcher's mound, and was ready for the final pitch: to Starscream.

"Two outs, bottom of the ninth, down by two." Mixmaster said to himself. "Starscream has a chance to win it, right here, right now. It doesn't g—"

"JUST PITCH THE SLAGGIN' BALL!"

"Comin' up!"

Mixmaster pitched the ball, and Starscream kicked it long and hard. Strika was on third base, Lugnut was on second. And Cyclonus was still on "eighth".

"That's four kinds of metallic grasses I've identified now." Cyclonus said to himself.

"Hey, Cyclonus!" Mixmaster yelled. "Why don't ya recite yer favorite Sky-Byte haiku?"

"Oh, you mean…" Cyclonus said, outstretching his servos and closing his optics with passion. "'Writ by the victors. History is forwards lived. But backwards inscri--"

Suddenly, the kickball landed in Cyclonus' servos, much to his surprise.

"You're out!" Swindle called. "That's the ballgame!"

"What the slag?!" Starscream asked in shock. "B-but he's on MY team!"

"Au the contrary, Screamer." Mixmaster said. "If you'll watch de official tape of de draft, you'll see 'dat Cyclonus is on MY team!

A clip of Mixmaster on the choosing lines showed him yelling "Scrapper! Bullpen!" and something unintelligible. By rewinding and slowing down the tape, it soon became "Scrapper! Bullpen!" and then, very covertly out of the side of his mouth: "…Cyclonus!"

"Aw, but that's cheating!" Starscream said. "You cheated! For once, YOU cheated, and I win!"

"On the contraire, Starscream." Mixmaster said, pulling out the rules data pad. "If you'll review de official rules data page…"

OFFICIAL KICK-A-BALL RULES

Same rules as kickball, except with an "-a" added.

AND DOUBLE SIDED MOUTH WHISPER DRAFTS ARE TOTALLY LEGAL!

SIGNED, THE COMMISIONER

(NOT RAMJET)

Striking out results  
in vehement catapultery.

"You'll see 'dat double sided mouth whispers have been legal since 'da 21st century!"

"Aw, the ding and the dang!" Starscream said, and then COM linked Ramjet. "Ramjet, I thought I told you to check the Seekers' Guide to Cheating Data Pad to make sure we didn't screw up!"

"Oh, I most certainly did!" Ramjet said, much to Starscream's annoyance.

"All right, everybody!" Swindle called out. "Line up!"

The teams lined up on respective sides, ready to go through the "Good Game" mantra.

"Good game." Mixmaster said.

"Good game." Scrapper repeated.

"Sure. What they said." Cyclonus said.

"Whatever." Strika said, scoffing.

"You guys are jerks, you know that?" Blackarachnia asked them.

"I hate your circuitry!" Blackout yelled.

"Never make Mixmaster the team captain again!" Lugnut angrily said.

"Zat vas ze VORST game I've ever played!" Blitzwing said to himself.

"You shouldn't be allowed to play this game." Starscream said, pointing at Mixmaster.

"You guys make me SICK! And that's hard to do for me!" Spittor said.

"YOU ALL ARE STILL IDIOTS!!!" Oil Slick yelled. From the flagpole. That he landed on.

THE END


	4. Longarm's Friends

This one wasn't a request from anyone; it was one that I decided to do.

It's based on SBEmail 46 "your friends".

This is one of my favorite SBEmails, so I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I do!

* * *

It was a lazy day at the Elite Guard headquarters. Decepticon activity was surprisingly low, and there was nothing going on. Longarm was halfway to stasis mode, when a new email brought him back. Much to his surprise and concern, it wasn't an Autobot one, but one from a Decepticon! Nervously opening it, he made sure no one was near.

"WASSUP, SHOCKWAVE!

YOU'VE BEEN DOING AWESOME. BUT, I THINK IT'S TIME FOR A LITTLE PRANKING TO GET THOSE AUTOBOTS IN ORDER.

BLITZWING"

Longarm sighed. Leave it to Blitzwing to try and blow his cover. He was about to delete it, when a though crept into his processor. A really mischievous plot.

* * *

Cliffjumper was watching a Cybertronian TV show, but was distracted when he noticed Longarm came in.

"Can I help you, Longarm Prime, sir?" Cliffjumper asked, sliding his chair away from his desk.

"Oh, nothing…just, HOW ABOUT THIS?"

Without warning, he kicked Cliffjumper in the stabilizing servo, and ran off, leaving a very red (or…redder) Cliffjumper glaring as he ran off.

* * *

Just because the dojo was closed didn't mean that Grandus didn't still enjoy walking around it. Every so often, he would pay honor to his fallen master, or just admire the busts of the accomplished members. Today, something seemed off. What looked like a bust was actually a hiding mech: Longarm.

"What the-" This is all Grandus could say, before Longarm jumped out of his hiding place, and tackled Grandus.

* * *

Besides being right and being noticed, there was nothing Sentinel enjoyed more than taking a good long stasis nap. With his lance and shield tucked nicely away in the corner of his office, he soon drifted off. Until, he was constantly getting attacked.

"OW! OW! OW! OW!"

He was too far away from his weapon to grab it and attack the offender: Longarm whacking him with a plastic Cyber-ball bat.

* * *

Glyph was busy cataloging different Cybertronian resources, when Longarm came up to her. He had a high grade energon cube and pile of rusty metal shards hidden behind his stabilizing servo. He held onto one of the shards behind his back.

"Hello, Longarm Prime, sir!" Glyph happily said, putting down her work. "Do you need anything?"

"Yes…" Longarm said, as Glyph tried to get a look behind him. When she did, she was surprised at what she saw. "Close your optical sensors and hold out your servos."

"…I don't want to."

* * *

Beachcomber was in an alleyway, half into stasis, and was able to only make out a very blurry Longarm step in front of him.

"Longarm Prime! Dude!" He half-spoke, half-slurred out. "What do you, like, need?"

"Put your head in here." Longarm said, placing a freezing cold tub of oil in front of him.

"…You got it!"

* * *

Tracks couldn't believe it. He just got himself polished, and the worst thing happened to him. No, not mud, or oil slicks, or any of that. No, something even worse:

Someone snuck up on him and welded Rattletrap to him! He knew that when he found whoever did this, he would pay!

Too bad he was too angry to notice a snickering Longarm hidden behind a dumpster, holding onto a welding torch.

* * *

"P-please, Longarm Prime! This is not a logical idea! Why are you doing this?"

Longarm had welded a hole on the floor of Perceptor's lab, and had filled it with quick-drying cement…with Perceptor inside. His head and neck was the only thing poking out, and he was being threatened by tiny, yet fully organic scorpions crawling around him.

* * *

Finally, Longarm found Dug Base, who was waiting for Wheelie to meet up with him.

"Welcoming: Longarm Prime." He said, in his standard speech pattern.

"Hey…you looked a little low on energy…" Longarm started, giving him a can of oil. "Here, you can have this."

"Emotion: Thanks. Object: Oil!" Dug Base happily said, as Longarm walked away, hoping that Dug Base wouldn't bother looking at the expiration date on the can.

* * *

…Oh, and for good measure, Longarm tackled Tap Out. Using the same trick that he used with Grandus.

* * *

When it was all over, he quickly ran to his office, deleting Blitzwing's email, scattering empty containers of energon and oil around the room, and laying down, clutching his head, looking like he seriously was over-energized. After all, he was just giving a fellow Decepticon what he wanted.

THE END


	5. Carrera's Jorb Well Done

This parody is one of my favorite ever episode "A Jorb Well Done".

Just to let you know, Carrera is NOT based on Coach Z whatsoever. But, his personality from the second Allspark Almanac inspired me…

* * *

The sun was starting to go down on practice for Cybertron's cyber-soccer game. Carrera was the coach of the team. But, this was only for the time. No, his true dream was to be a sports announcer. But, he had a tiny problem…

"All right, mechs! Pack it up, pack it in." Carrera called, ending practice, as Tap-Out jogged over to him to get an evaluation. "Great jaerb out there, Tap-Out."

"Um…I'm sorry, what?" Tap-Out asked, clearing out his auditory sensors to see if he heard right.

"I, um, said you did a great jorb out there."

"I did a great WHAT?" Tap-Out asked, completely bewildered by this point.

"A great jaerb!"

"Oh, man…" Tap-Out said, trying to stifle a giggle, and then calling out. "Seaspray! You gotta check this out!"

"Yeah?" Seaspray asked in his normal gargle-inflicted voice as he walked over to the two.

"All right, Carrera. Tell Seaspray what I did today."

"Err…well…" Carrera started. "I was just telling Tap-Out here that he did a great joearb."

Unlike Tap-Out, Seaspray couldn't hold his laughter, as he erupted into bubbly giggles. Eventually, Tap-Out joined in.

"Carrera, that's ridiculous!" Tap-Out said, trying to catch his breath. "We have got to do something about that."

* * *

The next day, Tap-Out borrowed a room at the Cybertron Academy, and used a laser pointer to point out something very important on a video monitor: job does not equal jaerb.

* * *

When Tap-Out's idea failed, he turned to Lightbright, who had her own video monitor with three different vowels: O, E, and A. She continually pointed to the o with her own laser pointer.

"O. Job. O. Job.

"JEEOOORGHHHBBB!" Carrera strained out.

"Carrera, you need to make your mouth in an 'O' shape, like this." Lightbright said, and then demonstrated. "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO."

"You mean like this?" Carrera attempted. "OOORREEAARRRORRR."

"That's…better…"

* * *

Seaspray's turn involved strapping Carrera into a chair in Cybertron's movie theater, and forcing his optics open as a film flickered on the screen, showing different instances of "job".

"Cosmos' JOB is to navigate the stars."

"Rosanna's JOB is to entertain."

"Spittor's JOB is obvious."

"JEEEOOORREEAARRB!" Carrera attempted until he was red in the face and leaking lubricant.

* * *

Eventually, Carrera had to resort to three that he wanted no interest in working with: Swindle, Dirge, and Thrust.

"Okay, Carrera, let's give it one more try." Swindle said, a smile wide on his face as he pointed to graffiti on the alleyway that said 'job' on it. "Job."

"Jorb."

"Uh…that sounded very good." Swindle said, staring at his Seeker bodyguards, who returned the stare in confusion. "Um, my only recommendation would be, next time, try to add some more syllables. Perhaps three. Perhaps four."

This time, the three Decepticons couldn't take it. They laughed hysterically as Carrera ducked away, feeling embarrassed and ashamed, while they continued to laugh, even when he was completely gone.

* * *

It was getting late, so Carrera slumped off to his house, and slumped down onto his berth, completely dejected.

"Oh, man…I'm just not cut out to say the word 'jaerb'. How am I going to face the mechs at practice tomorrow?" He said to himself, as a soft knocking was heard on his door. "Come in."

It was Grandus. He was holding…something in one of his servos.

"Uhh…Carrera?" He asked, as Carrera moved into a sitting position. "I heard about your problem and I think I can help. This is a datatrax I made when I was practicing the lexicon datapad."

He gave Carrera the datatrax and continued.

"Listen to it while you're in stasis. And tomorrow, you'll have recharged to find that—"

"Oh, wow! Thanks a lot, Grandus!" Carrera happily interrupted, leaping up off his berth and happily slapping Grandus on the back.

* * *

That night, Carrera placed the datatrax in his data-player, put a pair of headphones on, and played it as he started drifting into stasis.

"Job. Job. Job. Job. Job. Job. Job. Job..." Grandus' voice on the datatrax repeated, as Carrera's dreams morphed into one of multiple Grandus clones hopping a fence, saying 'job' over and over…

* * *

The next day, Tap-Out stayed a little later after practice to catch up on some extra drills (and to check on Carrera's grammar). When the timer buzzed, he ran over to Carrera.

"Well, Carrera," Tap-Out eagerly asked. "How did I do today?"

"Well, I tell ya. You did a great…job," Carrera said to a happily surprised Tap-Out "…Tap-Dance."

Tap-Out let out an annoyed sigh, and left the field, while Carrera desperately tried to correct his mistake.

"No, wait, I mean Blackout! I mean Highbrow. I mean Taco Bell. Tattletale! Chapstick? Tapenade?"

THE END


	6. A Folky Tale

This…actually had more trouble than you'd expect. I was in the middle of writing it when I had to get a new computer, and that file's still on the old hard drive, so I had to restart it. So…here we go again!

Thanks to Jess for giving me a name for Cyclonus's folk hero!

* * *

This…was just degrading. He was a fish out of temporal water from the distant future. He was a cold-blooded killer and seasoned Decepticon! And yet, he was forced to take a physical examination of his strength. Task one was simple: just climb up a rope without using your wings to fly. Sound's easy, right? Well, not with the 'Con that was coaching him…

"Come on, Cyclonuz! I knowz ya can do it! Just cram a leetle oom-pah down your exhauzt port und you'll be up zat rope in no time!"

Yes…it was Blitzwing. His face happily swapped to Random, he tried to encourage the futuristic Seeker, who just stared at him.

"Look, I'm willing to ignore that 'oom-pah down my exhaust port' comment," Cyclonus said, wincing a little bit. "But I'm more concerned with what that rope's attached to."

"Neva you mind!" Blitzwing barked, swapping to Hothead. "Juz get to climbin'!"

"Blitzwing, ropes are for dopes!"

"Vat's zat zuppozed to be?" Blitzwing asked, swapping to Icy. "Zcriptzure? Are you quoting zcriptzure?"

"No, it's a quote from Rabbit-Ears Roy, the legendary folk hero I made up."

"Zoundz more like a protoform'z story book character."

* * *

_Hark to the Folky Tale of Rabbit-Ears Roy, who traveled the universe, spreading good cheer and smiles to all who would listen!_

As Cyclonus told his story, he described what Roy looked like…a lot like Cyclonus himself, actually, only…a bit more old fashioned and…actually smiling! He walked over to a little Autobot girl and talked to her.

"I just saw a protoform Cyber-chick choke on a virus-worm! They both offlined! Isn't that great?"

Quite expectedly, the Autobot broke down into tears.

* * *

In another area of the planet, Roy encountered a small Mecha-squirrel.

"Oh, I eat Mecha-squirrels all the time! I made some soup out of the rest of your family just last night! Isn't that great?"

This time, the Mecha-squirrel (also quite expectedly) broke into tears.

_But he wasn't very good at sharing cheer or smiles. Just sadness and misery._

* * *

"Fear not, townsfolk!" Roy happily announced to the population of a tiny village, which greatly angered the town's Mayor. "Famine is no doubt right 'round the corner. And gross tech-bugs and glitch-mice sleep in our berths! Isn't that great?!"

_So one day, the mayor ordered—_

_Ooh! I know thiz von! Zen the Mayor ordered the very talented Danzing Zeekerz to perform at the annual "Steel und Purple Aztro-grazz" Feztival!_

As soon as Blitzwing (happily stuck on Random) interrupted, three Seekers randomly appeared in the story and started to dance to the hit song "Gonna Have a Good Time Tonight" (which is really just that line repeated over and over with a few modifications). As the song went on for a few lines (with Blitzwing singing off-key and off-time with the song), the song suddenly stopped with a record scratch as Cyclonus started to narrate again.

_The Dancing Seekers' stabilizing servos broke and they stopped dancing immediately!_

As the servos of the dancing Decepticons broke and they were hauled off, Cyclonus finally got the story back on track.

_The Mayor then ordered Rabbit-Ears Roy to leave town and never speak to its citizens again._

"But Mr. Mayor," Roy started to speak to the (now livid) Mayor. "Sometimes dogs get so hungry, they eat their own tails! Isn't that-"

* * *

"-GREAAAAAATTT!" Rabbit-Ears Roy literally got kicked out of the town, landing in the woods outside of the town, not letting that get to him, he continued walking.

_So Rabbit-Ears Roy walked through the forest, befriending all manners of critters along the way._

* * *

"Cheer up, Mr. Cricket-con!" Roy happily said to a robotic cricket, which he was now dangling in his servos. "You have no central hardware system, so it won't hurt when I yank your stabilizing servos off! Isn't that great?"

* * *

"Hello, Firefox Joe!" He happily said to a nearby Firefox.

_Have you met mein good friendz, the Danzing Zeekerz?! "Ztarzcream", "Ramjet", Und "The Killer Thundercracker"!_

The song "Gonna Have a Good Time Tonight" started up once again as Random took the reins. It started only for one verse, until…

_NO! The Dancing Seekers are allergic to Firefoxes, and they sneezed themselves into comas!_

_Aw, jeez! Zat's harzh!_

* * *

_Then one day, ol' Roy here got a message from town!_

A small note was attached to an arrow, which Roy quickly read.

_Roy,_

_We haven't stopped laughing since you left. No one can get any work done. We need you to come say something miserable and depressing so we can have our lives back._

_Talk atcha later,_

_The Townsfolk_

"Something miserable and depressing?" Roy said to himself in confusion. "I've never thought of such a thing."

He then noticed a small Socket-snake slithering by him. Unlike most Socket-snakes, this one was oddly colored and sort of funny looking!

"Um…would weird Socket-snakes be considered depressing?"

* * *

_So he strolled into town, dressed as weird Socket-snake._

"I'm a weird, weird Socket-snake, everyone." A now-frowning Rabbit-Ears Roy said, wearing a costume reminiscent of the Socket-snake he saw. The entire town continued to laugh and laugh at this sight. "My name is Weird Socket-snake Joe! Isn't that miserable and depressing?"

_But instead of getting depressed, everyone laughed even harder until they passed out for the rest of their lives._

* * *

"And that brings me to this rope." Cyclonus said, finishing his story. "I'm gonna pass out if I have to climb this rope!"

"Man, Cyclonuz, zat's a real load zere! A real load!" Icy Blitzwing commented. "Zat kind of thing might vork on Astrotrain or Spittor…"

Suddenly, Blitzwing swapped to Hothead…

"BUT YOU'RE DEALING WITH BLITZ-DANG-VING! NOW GET UP ZAT ROPE!"

"Waah!" Cyclonus yelled, falling down and passing out.

"Oh, jeez!" Blitzwing nervously said, hastily switching to Icy. "I made ze future-bot offline! Thiz is bad! Thiz is real, real, bad! Vat vould the Danzing Zeekerz do in a zituation like this?"

After thinking for a moment, Blitzwing switched faces to Random, and started to dance away. Listening very closely, one could hear him singing "Gonna Have a Good Time Tonight" until no one could hear him.

"Works every time!" The (faking it) fainted Cyclonus happily said, lifting his head up to watch him dance away, then slumping back into fake unconsciousness. This Cybertron would be easier to live in than he thought.

THE END


End file.
